


Confession and Corruption

by thelittlestpurplecat



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bucky's a bad influence, First Time, M/M, Pastor's son!Steve, Skinny!Steve, Steve's a pretty little choir boy, rebel!bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 04:45:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2638568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlestpurplecat/pseuds/thelittlestpurplecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is the son of the Pastor. He's in the choir, he's well behaved, and well looked upon by his family and the other members of the congregation. But he's not so pure as his family would like to think, and all it takes is a dark haired boy with a lazy smirk and teasing red lips to tip him over the edge; a service Bucky Barnes is more than happy to provide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Easter Sunday was one of the few days of the year that Mrs. Barnes insisted on bringing her son Bucky to church with her. It was not the eighteen year olds choice activity, but there were certain upsides.

Bucky sat beside his mother in the pews, resisting the urge to slump. He kept his chin up and his back straight, like a good boy, like a respectable, church-going young man. But it wasn’t the words projected on the back wall that he was paying attention too, and unlike some of the other restless teenaged boys in attendance, it wasn’t the pretty girls in their Easter Sunday dresses either. Bucky was _much_ too focused on the blond haired, blue eyed boy in the choir.

He was standing in the middle row, eyes focused, chin lifted as he sang. He was maybe five feet tall and looked like he weight about 90 pounds when he was soaking wet and had weights in his pockets. His expression was serious as he sang; single-mindedly focusing on carrying the tune because, of course, it had to be perfect for the Easter service. He was perfect, and he looked like Bucky’s next pet project.

To be fair, pet project wasn’t really the right word; that would suggest that his mission was to convert, rather than corrupt. Bucky knew he shouldn’t, but he really did get a very unchristian thrill out of seducing straight-laced church boys and seeing just how easy it was to get them begging for a little cock. Repressed homosexual tendencies seemed to be a prevalent trend within the young men of the church. It was really _quite_ entertaining.

Bucky smirked, but quickly stifled the expression, reassuming a look of reverent attention. He found some theatrics, a look of guilt, a pleading stare in the direction of the cross, an expression of penitence, usually drew their attention directly to him. Bucky inhaled, and focused on looking as much like a tender, lost sheep as he could, but it was hard to feel very religious when he couldn’t stop imagining the pretty little choir boy on his knees.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Steve exhaled softly as he stepped out of the choir box, his breathing slightly irregular from pushing the higher tones. He was one of the few guys in the choir that could hit hose motes, and so it had been essential that he be on key. Fortunately, everything seemed to have gone well. The audience had been enraptured, but Steve couldn’t shake the image of one particular face in audience from his mind.

The young man’s skinny, pale fingers brushed over the dark wood railings as he descended the steps and slipped into the room to the side of the stage. His father, the pastor of the church, stood in the center of he room, fixing his tie casually as he prepared for his message. He glanced up as he son entered, a warm smile pulling at his lips.

"I heard you out there with the choir today," he said, affectionately cupping a hand along his son’s jaw. "You did a fantastic job." Mr. Rogers pressed a kiss to Steve’s forehead, and a smile touched the young man’s features.

"Thanks," he said, scuffing a toe absently across the floor. "Ready for your message?"

The pastor granted his son a genuine smile. “I certainly hope so, some people only come to church twice a year, Easter and Christmas. These are our times to make a difference in their lives.” He said earnestly. Mr. Rogers was committed, and passionate about his faith, and he exercised it well. There was nothing malicious about him. His only goal in life was the help people in the best way he knew how.

"Speaking of," Steve piped up quickly, knowing his father needed to be at the pulpit momentarily. "Who’s the boy by Mrs. Barnes? I’ve never seen him here before."

His father raised his eyebrows, poking his head around the doorframe to study his congregation. “Ah,” he said softly, turning back to Steve. “Her son, Bucky. He’s your age I believe.” He added, a sympathetic frown tugging at his brow. “I think he has a lot of potential Steve, but the boy needs a good influence.” He glanced back to his son with a warm smile. “Maybe you should talk to him after service.” Mr. Rogers suggested, gently clapping his son’s shoulder as he stepped out to the pulpit to deliver the Easter message.

The smile on Steve’s face faded he moment his father rounded the corner, replaced by a look of guilt and uncertainty. He was far from being the young man his father thought he was. Everyone knew Steve didn’t lie, he made sure of it, it was the best lie he ever told. He was meek, and humble, except for when he was picking fights at school and shit-talking under his breath. He was upstanding, and pure-minded, except for when he’d stared at a passing man, and wondered what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against his own and the other man’s hands on his body. How could he live up to his father’s expectation of being a good influence if he wasn’t even sure he was a good person?

One thing was for certain though, weather he was a good influence or not, he was going to talk to Bucky Barnes after service.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Mr. Rogers’ message was perfect. It was concise, powerful, and to the point. He didn’t let the service drag. The message ended on a note of hope, offering the invitation to forgiveness, extending the possibility of salvation.

Following Mr. Rogers’ message, the congregation was invited into the dinning hall to take part in a meal that the church had prepared. And this was where Steve had determined to approach Bucky, and exactly where Bucky was expecting to be approached.

It hadn’t been half-way through the service before Bucky knew he’d gotten Steve’s attention. The sad eyes and look of hopeful repentance always worked wonders, and now, he strode around the dining hall, waiting for Steve to approach him just as he knew he would. He swung his bag by his side as he walked, feeling its contents shift inside. A small, secretive smirk tugged at the boy’s lips. Some of the things in his bag really weren’t appropriate for a church, but he’d had _so_ much fun with emotionally stunted church-boys in the past that he’d learned to come prepared. And any minute now, that pretty little choir boy would be showing up, trying to save his soul.

"Happy Easter."

Bucky suppressed a smirk, turning to face the speaker, wearing his most honest expression. “Huh? Oh,” he gave the skinny young man a warm smile, “h-happy Easter.”

Steve returned the smile, extending his hand to he visitor. “I’m Steve, by the way, Steve Rogers.”

Bucky blinked in surprise. “Pastor Rogers’ kid?” He asked incredulously, trying not to smirk. Could it really be this much fun? Could he really be that lucky that this gorgeous young man was the pastor’s son? Oh god, this was going to be entertaining.

The blond dropped his gaze with a smile that looked at little…long suffering maybe? “Yeah,” he replied off-handedly. “That’s me, _pastor’s kid_.”

Bucky’s expression shifted to a look of embarrassment. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean- I just-” Steve waved of his attempted apology, smirking wryly.

"It’s fine," he assured him. "I get it a lot."

"Must get tiring. Always ‘Pastor Roger’s son’ instead of ‘Steve.’"

Steve blinked, suddenly feeling surprised, and a bit, well, _exposed_. Bucky picked up on something that most people brushed off. Usually, if they noticed at all, they always seemed to go into how _lucky_ he was to have a dad like Pastor Rogers, how _proud_ they must be of having such an upstanding son. Seldom did people notice that, among their praise of his family, they’d stripped Steve of his individuality. Because he wasn’t Steve to them, he was Pastor Rogers’ son.

Steve looked up, meeting the brunet’s questioning blue eyes, a curious frown tugging at his brow. “Yeah, kind of does.” He admitted, wondering what else that sharp mind of his was perceiving.

Bucky offered him a warm, encouraging smile, tipping his head to the side. “Well, I promise I won’t do it again. Cross my heart.” He added, tracing an X over his muscular chest with his index finger. “Oh, and since we never quite finished introductions, I’m James Barnes, but we can go with Bucky. I’m here with my mum.”

Steve nodded, following his gaze to where Mrs. Barnes was talk to his own mother. He turned back to Bucky, unconsciously fixing his temperamental hair. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.” He said, knowing that that was just the kind of thing you said when new people came to church. You made them feel welcomed.

Bucky allowed himself a smirk, his tongue poking slightly out of his mouth, moistening his very red lips. He watched with satisfaction as Steve’s gaze dropped, following the movement. He closed his lips again, wanted to draw the teasing out for a bit. “I’m glad I’m here too,” he responded, glancing around the dinning hall. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a church like this before. I didn’t know churches had dinning halls.”

"It’s pretty new," Steve explained off-handedly, feeling a hot coil of shame burning in his stomach, feeling embarrassment for letting himself be distracted by Bucky’s teasing lips. "Most of the church is really old actually, my grandfather used to pastor here as well."

Bucky raised his eyebrows, thoroughly enjoying the sight of the heat creeping into Steve’s cheeks. He was so cute, a little blushing virgin, how sweet. “Wanna show me around the place?” He asked, sliding his hand absently along the strap of his bag. Bucky desperately wanted to be cocky, and flirty, desperately wanted to make Steve blush, but there were too many people around, he needed to get Steve alone first.

Steve looked back up from his shoes, still trying to banish the thoughts that had crept to the edge of his mind when he’d seen Bucky’s tongue creep out to moisten those obscenely red lips of his. “Sure,” he said quickly, inwardly cringing. _Too eager_? “Why not,” he added absently, waving for Bucky to follow him. Steve slipped out of the room, Bucky strolling behind him at a leisurely pace.

As Steve walked Bucky through the church he told him about the history of the building, the stained glass windows and the meanings behind them. He told him about how many generations members of his family had been pastoring this church.

"-So really, when you look at it, my dad’s the tails end of a, frankly, ridiculously long line of Rogers’ who have pastored this place and I’m just gonna shut up right now because I can’t imagine that you’re remotely interested in _any_ of this." Steve finished abruptly, turning to face Bucky, who’d been meandering behind him.

Bucky paused as Steve did, pulling off his best look of surprise. “No!” he objected earnestly, “no, I am.”

Steve scoffed. “Really? Because I know the look on a person’s face when they’re pretending to give a fuck about church history, I wear it constantly.”

Bucky blinked, surprised, and suddenly amused. So the little blushing virgin had a backbone, and apparently not as clean a mouth as the rest of the congregation seemed to think. “Okay,” he conceded, stepping forward slightly, “you caught me. I couldn’t care less.”

Steve’s expression had faded to a look of annoyance now. “Fine, I can understand that well enough, why’d’you want to come back here in the first place then?”

Bucky hesitated slightly. This was the trick part of the plan, but it was also the most fun. The young man inhaled deeply, running his fingers through his casually tousled hair as he let the silence hang for just the right amount of time. “Look…” Bucky started, turning to face him with a slight tilt to his head. “I know the pastor usually handles stuff like this, but I- I don’t think I could go to an adult and…well, I’ve got a confession.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, looking a little unimpressed by the theatrics, and then he felt bad. Bucky seemed really earnest just now, and maybe he was really struggling with something. Steve should be doing anything he could to help him. The blond haired boy allowed his expression to relax and he granted him an encouraging smile. “Okay,” he agreed quietly. “C’mon and tell me. I promise I won’t breath a word to a single, living sole. It’ll be just like the confession box.”

Bucky nodded, falling into step next to Steve as they walked, Bucky shortening his stride to match his smaller companion’s. He drew in an uncertain breath, holding it for a moment before he spoke. “I’ve been thinking, a lot actually, about stuff that the church tells people is wrong, but I can shake it, and this point, I’m not sure I want to.”

Steve’s footsteps faltered, momentarily breaking the pace as he felt heat flush his cheeks. People all danced around the subject of homosexuality in the same way, they all avoided the same words and used others instead, so it was still bleedingly obvious even if they were _trying_ to be cryptic. Steve forced himself to listen as Bucky continued, despite the heat that washed up his spine.

"I think about other guys," Bucky said quietly, watching Steve’s cheeks going pinker by the second. He was trying desperately not to smirk, trying to keep his tone penitent regardless of how badly he wanted to tease and flirt. He had Steve hook, line, and sinker, now all he had to do, was reel him in. "I think about…kissing them, touching them," he added his words coming out breathy and enraptured.

He turned to face Steve, seeing his eyes wide, staring down at his shoes, his blush creeping down his neck, and all he way up to the tips of his ears. Bucky moved in closer, his eyes half-lidded, moist, red lip parted seductively. He tipped his head forward his mouth almost touching Steve’s warm ear. “I get thinking about their mouths…on my body…” He smirked, moving the last half-step forward that brought his broad chest against Steve’s boney shoulder.

Steve yanked away right on cue. Church boys were always so predictable, and denial always came immediately before they caved. Steve was flushed from head to toe and he seemed to be having difficulty swallowing. He had lived in fear of his feelings for so long that to have this gorgeous guy coming on to him was pushing him dangerously close to panic.

"I… _don’t_ think I’m the right person for you to be talking too. Maybe you _should_ see my dad."

Bucky scoffed at the suggestion, tipping his head back to expose the length of his throat. “Nah, you’re doing fine, you’re a great listener.” He said, spinning it back on itself, planting the seed of doubt in Steve’s mind that maybe he _hadn’t_ been coming on to him.

Steve nodded slowly, finding his gaze suddenly draw to Bucky’s mouth again as he bit down on he swell of his lips. He held it between his teeth for a moment before releasing it, the soft flesh tender, and flushed red. He was definitely teasing now. Bucky was watching him and he still couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away as his tongue slide out again, wetting his mouth as he moved forward again. This time, Steve couldn’t bring himself to want to pull away.

"You ever imagine stuff like that Stevie?" He asked his voice barely a whisper as his brought his lips closer. His could feel Steve’s rapid breathing on his lips now, see his gaze darting from his mouth, to his body, and back up to his mouth again. "Come on," he prompted, tipping his head to the side as he brushed his lips coyly against Steve for just a fraction of a second. "Don’t lie now, we _are_ in a church."

Steve swallowed hard, feeling suddenly weak, but he was so close. Those gorgeous lips weren’t even an inch from his mouth, and Bucky’s body was already pressing against his. His heart felt like it was going to tear out of his throat, but Steve swallowed it back parting his dry lips. “I am now,” he admitted, licking his lips slowly.

Bucky suddenly surged forward, catching Steve’s sunken cheeks in his hands and pressing his mouth full force to his. His tongue met Steve’s in a rush of warmth and passion, his mouth working hungrily against the slender young man’s.

Steve startled, his eyes widening, hands pulling back abruptly. Bucky’s mouth was warm, and firm against his own, and _god_ , it felt amazing, but he was also nearly panicking. He was terrified of how good it felt.

Bucky moved his hands away from Steve’s jawline, grabbing the other boy’s flailing arms and pulling them forward. He pressed the kiss deeper, moving Steve’s hands to his waist, guiding one a little further back, a little lower down. To his surprise, his felt Steve’s fingers curl, gripping his ass, sending a wave of pleasure through his body.

Steve felt a purr of pleasure escape Bucky’s lips as he grabbed him, his hand tightening over he other boy’s firm ass, his neatly pressed Sunday slacks sliding under his fingers. The panic was starting to loose it’s edge, numbed by the feeling of Bucky’s tongue sliding, warm, and wet against his own. All the times Steve had wondered what it would be like to be kissed by a guy, he’d never imagined it would be like this. The hot curve of Bucky’s mouth fit neatly against his own and he deepened the kiss, his one hand wandering across his chest, the other still clasped over his own, encouraging him to grip his ass harder. Steve felt like he was going to melt under the touch.

Two stumbling steps had Bucky pressing Steve against one of the pews, his satchel knocking loudly against the hard wood back. The brunet’s gorgeous hands moving to tug at Steve’s shirt, undoing the buttons in clumsy anticipation. His entire body was pressed against him now, and Steve could feel Bucky’s hardening erection pressing into his thigh.

Steve broke the kiss abruptly, gasping for air, his hands pressed against Bucky’s chest. “Wait,” he gasped, still pink in the face, his lips damp with saliva.

Bucky paused patiently, his hands resting on he back of Steve’s neck. There was normally some kind of hesitation, a reconsideration, but he found if he waited it out, or even backed off completely, the would usually be back to tearing off his clothing in a minute or two. “What is it?” Bucky asked softly, rubbing his thumb along Steve’s throat, his lips still barely separated from his, waiting for the classic ‘I shouldn’t,’ ‘it’s not right,’ ‘I can’t’ etc.…

Steve caught his breath, his blue eyes meeting Bucky’s evenly. “Not here,” he rasped softly, seeing the flicker of surprise in Bucky’s gaze. “Come with me.” Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand, skidding past him and pulling him along out of the sanctuary and down a long hallway.

Bucky followed, frankly, pleasantly surprised at the refreshing change of pace. He allowed Steve to lead him through the maze like hallways, finally coming to a door tucked around a discreet corner. Steve let go of Bucky’s hand for a moment, kneeling down and popping open the electrical socket beside the door, slipping a small silver key out of the hole in the drywall. Steve replaced the cover of the key’s hiding place, and unlocked to door, grabbing Bucky’s wrist and pulling him inside.

It wasn’t a room at all, but a large supply closet. A coat rack lined one wall, holding twenty or more garment bags full of choir robes, a bookshelf lined the other, stacked with dusty volumes of religious commentary that probably hadn’t been disturbed in a decade or more. The floor was littered with the long, thick cushions that _had_ covered the hard wood of the pews before they had been replaced with newer ones. This was the main layout of the little room, although Bucky hardly had time to notice, as the second the door had closed behind them, Steve had pinned him against the wall and captured his mouth in a heated kiss.

A soft gasp of surprise was drawn from Bucky’s lungs as he suddenly found the tables turned. Steve pressed him against the wall, kissing him with passionate desperation. He could feel the other boy’s boney hips grinding against his. He could feel the bulge in Steve’s pants pressing into him and his hands moved up the blond’s body, tugging through his soft, fine hair. Bucky gave a low growl of pleasure as Steve’s sharp teeth closed down on his lower lip, a thrilling buzz of pain spreading through his lip.

Steve pulled on Bucky’s lip with his teeth, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from him that sent a wave of warm passion spreading through Steve’s body. One of Steve’s hands moved up to card through his silky dark hair, the other still groping at Bucky’s firm ass.

As thrilling as it was to be pushed up against the wall in a dimly lit supply closet by the boney young man, Bucky liked to stay in control of a situation. His fingers curled around the back of Steve’s neck, his other hand gripping the boy’s waist and drawing him tighter against him. Bucky turned sharply, dragging Steve with him and forcing he other boy against the wall, surging forward to press his hot, greedy mouth to Steve’s throat.

Steve grunted in surprise, feeling Bucky’s hands, sweaty with anticipation, tugging open his neatly buttoned shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. The other boy’s hips rutted against his own as he sucked hungrily at his neck. A needy whine escaped Steve’s lips as he struggled to undo the bottoms of Bucky’s shirt.

He pushed the material aside, his hands sliding down Bucky’s toned body, feeling his muscles move and flex powerfully beneath his skin. Almost without thinking, Steve found himself yanking Bucky’s belt open as the other boy dropped his bag to the floor, shrugging off his shirt even as he continued to kiss desperately along his neck and jawline. Steve was aching now, desperate for touch, desperate for the feeling of Bucky’s hot tanned flesh sliding against his own.

Bucky freed his hands from Steve’s hair, undoing the buttons of his slacks and letting them slide to the floor. In a few quick movements, he undid Steve’s belt, stripping him down to his boxers and forcing him roughly against the wall, his fingers twisting through his hair.

Steve caught his breath, eyes half closed, cheeks flushed pink with anticipation. His heart was hammering in his chest, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

Bucky hesitated a moment, his chest heaving, lips almost brushing Steve’s. “You sure you wanna go through with this?” Bucky panted, canting his head to the side, his tongue sliding out to nervously wet his lips. He hoped Steve was enjoying himself, he didn’t want to stop, but he would if the slender blond ask him too.

Steve swallowed hard, giving a definite nod of his head, words momentarily escaping him. “Yeah,” he managed to gasp, his hands sliding past the elastic waistband of bucky’s boxers, pushing the flimsy bit of material down and letting Bucky’s boxers slip to the floor.

A smirk flickered on Bucky’s features, suddenly growing into a devilish grin. “We’ll then,” he purred, running his tongue across his teeth, “take me to church, choir boy.”

Bucky drew Steve tighter against him, pulling him away from the wall as he gripped his fingers through his fine blond hair, dragging him into a deep hot kiss. His mouth worked greedily against Steve’s as Steve pushed back, reciprocating with a needy little whine. Suddenly, Bucky’s foot caught in a garment bag that had been tossed on the floor and he pitched forward, dragging Steve down with him.

The two young men hit the discarded cushions with a muted _thump_ , Bucky braced over Steve’s slender figure. The brunet paused a moment, trying to catch his breath, but Steve was impatient, dragging Bucky down to kiss him again. He felt desperate, like he’d never been touched before in his life and was now just trying to soak up as much as he could as quickly as he could.

"Please," he murmured needily, trying to speak between desperate kisses. "Please, _oh god_ please, I want you-" he gasped shortly, gripping into Bucky’s hair, pressing his mouth to his, uncoordinated, and needy. The kid had _no idea_ what he was doing, but there was a lot of pent up sexual frustration in there, and Steve wanted him, badly. "Please," he rasped again, "fuck me."

Bucky laughed softly, actually feeling a surge of affectionate pity for the kid. He had clearly coped with these pent up feelings for a long time and had been unable to do anything about it. Come think of it, he probably must have been pretty scared of his feelings, considering how violently Christian his family was. “Alright,” Bucky breathed, “hang on choir boy, I don’t wanna hurt you.” Bucky pulled away, Steve whining at the loss of the contact, already missing the feeling of his hot, sweaty palms on his body, the warmth of his mouth against his.

Bucky drug his discarded bag over to where he straddled Steve’s sharp, boney hips, pulling the zipper open. “Short off,” he instructed briefly. Steve arching his back to slid his boxers off his narrow hips, hands shaking with anticipation. Bucky paused, distracted for a moment by the sight of Steve lying beneath him; naked, exposed, trusting. His angelic church-boy face was flushed a delicate shade of pink. A sheen of sweat had formed across his brow and little panting gasps of air escaped his wet pink lips. He was stunning, and even though they were the same age, he looked very, very _young_. Bucky was shocked, almost appalled to find that this was different from before. He didn’t want to corrupt him, play around with his feeling and see what kind of dirty fantasies he could get him to admit to; he wanted to take care of him. He wanted to pleasure him, make _him_ feel good, assure him that this didn’t have to be a frightening thing. He wanted to be worthy of the expression of trust worn so openly on Steve’s face.

Bucky reached into his bag, digging through the few books and papers he’d thrown in as a distraction and pulling out a bottle of lube. Bucky leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Steve’s lips, before deepening it, his mouth working against Steve’s with firm pressure.

Steve broke the kiss as Bucky opened the bottle of lube, squirting a healthy amount onto his fingers. “You came prepared,” he said, the words coming out as a soft gasp. “You bastard, you _knew_ this was gonna happen.” Steve said, looking indignant, possibly a little hurt.

Bucky leaned forward, quickly pecking Steve’s lips. “What, no. What’d’ya mean? _You_ don’t carry lube with you?” He asked, dodging the obvious point that Steve had hit the nail on he head.

Steve groaned in frustration, tipping his head back. “ _Stupid_ ,” He hissed between his teeth. “Do you do this to some guy at _every_ church you visit?” Steve accused, Bucky pausing awkwardly. He’d have to be an idiot, a blind, deaf idiot to not know Steve was angry. He wasn’t going to start lubing the guy up if he was upset with him.

He buffered for a moment, a thousand lies tumbling through his head, but his brain kept circling back to one image, Steve laying beneath him, eager, and trusting. Steve was so starved for this kind of affection; he wanted it so badly, all Bucky wanted to do now was give it to him. He sighed, setting aside the bottle, still awkwardly cupping the lube he’d squirted onto his fingers in his left palm. “Look,” Bucky said softly. “I’m gonna level with you choir boy. There’ve been guys before, but I like you. I want to do this for you.”

Steve scoffed, looking suddenly closed and bitter. “For _me_?” He snapped, “correct me if I’m wrong but I’m pretty sure this gig of ‘seduce the preacher’s kid’ is for _you_.”

Bucky bit his lip, shifting uncomfortably. “It is-was,” he corrected quickly. “But you…I’m guessing you’ve never done this before right?” Bucky prompted. Steve didn’t reply, but his body language was answer enough. “Never had a guy kiss you? Touch you? You want that…don’t you?” He asked, his voice going softer as he saw the wheels turning in Steve’s mind. “I don’t want you to _not_ know what that’s like…I get it, your parents probably wouldn’t be crazy about you bringing home a boyfriend, so your options just got a _lot_ more limited. Let me do this for you. If you want.” He pressed, and for the first time in what felt like forever Bucky was being completely honest.

Steve lay back on the cushions, Bucky still straddling him, but waiting patiently. He felt like an idiot for not seeing it before, but at the same time, he still wanted to trust Bucky. He closed his eyes exhaling slowly. “I _do_ want this.” He said quietly, still a little reserved. “I’m not so sure I’m crazy about the idea of being just another item on your list though…”

Steve’s eyelids fluttered open, surprised as he felt Bucky touch a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. It felt…apologetic…like he could do nothing about the past, but it felt like a promise, that it would be different from now on. Steve wasn’t a pet project anymore. He wasn’t a name on a list or someone to be corrupted. Steve wasn’t sure what that made him, or what that made Bucky, but he was willing to accept it.

The blond haired boy shifted his head to the side, parting his lips and kissing Bucky deeper, his hand moving to the back of his head.

"You want me to keep going choir boy?" Bucky asked softly, and Steve nodded his head, his nose brushing against his.

"Yeah," he murmured quietly. "And Bucky?"

"Hmmm?" Bucky purred, kissing down his throat, his right hand sliding along the inside of Steve’s thigh.

"Don’t call me choir boy."

Bucky paused, and Steve could feel his lips pull into a sheepish smile against the skin of his neck. He exhaled, breath hot against his throat before he placed another kiss against it. “Sure thing P.K.” He breathed, and Steve roughly smacked the back of his head. “Hey!” Bucky protested, his body sliding tantalizing along Steve’s body as he drew level with his mouth again, his teeth closing over his bottom lip. Bucky pulled until Steve squirmed in pleasure, his lip sliding free of the brunet’s sharp teeth. “Be good,” Bucky growled softly, his tongue sliding between Steve’s lips, dancing, hot, and wet across his teeth and tongue. He kissed him deeply and Steve arched his back, craning closer to him. He was so desperate, so needy and inexperienced. It was adorable.

Bucky slid his right hand down the length of Steve’s torso, feeling the rise and fall of his skinny chest as he kissed him hungrily. His hipbones were sharp under Bucky’s palm, and he traced his fingertips further down. A soft moan escaped Steve’s lips as Bucky’s hand moved to his aching cock, stroking it with soft, gentle movements. He could feel Bucky’s other hand sliding between his legs as well, his fingers slick with lube.

The brunet kissed Steve hungrily. The skinny little church boy was hard beneath his palm, his finger clawing desperately through his hair. Bucky smirked into the kiss, and experimentally pressed his index finger against the other boy’s sensitive hole.

Steve drew a sudden, shuddering gasp, arching his back sharply. Bucky froze, waiting as Steve caught his breath. He boy blinked rapidly, looking a little uncertain again, his gaze darting from Bucky’s concerned expression to his hand, still wrapped around his aching cock.

Bucky leaned forward, pressing a comforting kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay,” he breathed, “it’s okay Stevie, I’m gonna go nice and slow alright? I’m not gonna hurt you. Just try and relax.”

Steve nodded shortly, catching his breath. “I’m trying,” he whispered, inhaling deeply. “I-I’m a little nervous, I’ve never done this before…” He admitted.

Bucky nuzzled his face into the crook of he slender boy’s neck, pressing a tender kiss just below his ear. “It’s okay, just relax, I’m gonna take care of you…” He murmured, continuing to whisper words of comfort in the boy’s ear as he tried again. This time, Steve stayed still, lying there receptively as Bucky slowly slid on finger inside him. He was so hot, so tight; it sent a shudder of pleasure up Bucky’s spine.

Steve gave a soft little whimper, shifting to spread his legs further. The feeling of Bucky sliding a finger into his body stirred hot coils of lust in the pit of his stomach. He wanted more, desperately. “Please,” Steve gasped softly, his fingers gripping at the cushion covers. “Please, Bucky, more.”

Bucky smirked, biting his lips as he opened Steve up, carefully working a second finger into the tight ring of muscle. Steve was getting the hang of this. He had grown relaxed and pliable under Bucky’s hand, laying back and letting him have his way with his slender, gorgeous body. A third finger slid in to join the first two and Steve gave a desperate little cry.

" _Bucky_ ," he whined, raising his hips needily.

"Okay," Bucky breathed, kissing his stomach softly, Steve squirming in anticipation. "Okay church-boy, relax. Just a minute more…" Despite Steve’s hungry, desperate little whimpers, Bucky spent another few minutes prepping him. He was aching now, desperately hard, needing release, but the last thing he’d wanted to do was hurt Steve because he hadn’t spent enough time getting him relaxed and aroused. He was certainly aroused now. Steve lay under him, legs spread, chest heaving. He was ready, and he wanted Bucky badly.

Bucky pressed a long deep kiss to Steve’s eager mouth, slowly sliding his fingers out of him. He fumbled blindly for the bottle, pouring more of the slick substance on to his palm and generously lubing his cock. He kissed Steve hungrily, stroking himself and lining up his aching cock. Steve whined into the kiss, his hands coming up to tug feverishly through Bucky’s hair. The brunet smirked at his young lover’s anticipation and finally, after all the teasing and foreplay, rewarded him.

Bucky slid his hips forward, pushing his painfully hard cock into Steve’s body. The boy gasped in pleasure, his fingers tightening through Bucky’s hair. “Is that good?” Bucky purred, his sharp teeth closing down on Steve’s earlobe, tugging at it playfully.

"Yes," Steve gasped, a groan escaping him as he felt Bucky’s hard cock sliding into him. He could feel himself stretching around it, he could feel Bucky’s hips finding a rhythm as he worked into him with long, slow strokes.

Bucky’s hand moved to his cock again, pressing on his erection, stroking, teasing. Steve squirmed underneath him, gasping and whining in pleasure. Bucky had never thought he could be so turned on by Steve’s needy little mews. All the desperate, eager noises escaping Steve’s lips as his short fingernails scrapped down the gentle curve of his back was almost too much for Bucky. He was close, but he wanted Steve to come first.

Bucky drug Steve up against him, kissing and biting hungrily at his pale throat, leaving marked on the delicate skin. His hot, sweaty palms slid down the length of his body, gripping his soft, reddened ass. Steve was gasping now, babbling incoherently between moans and soft little cries of pleasure. He slid his hips forward, rocking weakly on Bucky’s cock as the other boy thrust into him.

A growl of pleasure rumbled in Bucky’s chest, as he forgot himself momentarily, thrusting roughly into the boy’s body. Steve squirmed, crying out as his hand gripped feverishly through Bucky’s hair, a flush of tantalizing pain filling his body. Bucky’s hands were rough on his body, gripping, bruising, as he fucked him passionately. And Steve loved it.

Steve’s breath caught in his chest, his fingers tightening through Bucky’s sweaty locks as he gave a soft cry of warning. “Bucky!” He gasped, his hips stuttering, loosing their rhythm. Bucky’s hot hand curled around Steve’s cock, his fingers moving in short, quick strokes. Steve’s face flushed blood red, a desperate cry tearing from his lips as he came, warm, and wet between Bucky’s fingers.

Bucky smirked victoriously as Steve shuddered in pleasure beneath him, sweat sliding down his perfect brown, dampening his soft blond hair. He stroked Steve softly until the shudders ceased to shake his body, his breathing evening out. He slowly uncurled his sticky fingers from around Steve’s cock, running his hands down the blond hair boy’s thighs as he gave a few more long, slow thrust of his hips. Bucky’s wet red lips parted, his breathing coming in short gasps. The young man’s eyes fluttered closed, and he gasped, pleasure flooding his system as he came inside Steve’s tight, hot body.

He shuddered, a moan escaping him as he ducked his head. The other boy’s face had gone slack with pleasure as he felt Bucky’s hot wet come inside him. After a long moment, Bucky pulled out of him slowly, his hands still mechanically stroking his thighs. A soft whimper escaped Steve’s kiss-swollen lips, already missing the feeling of Bucky’s cock inside of him.

Bucky sunk down beside the blond haired boy with a muted _thump_ , his chest rising and falling in ragged gasps. Bucky turned his head, looking over at the other boy.

Steve lay back on the discarded cushions, sore, and dripping with sweat; cum all over his stomach and chest, slick between his trembling thighs. He shifted his head to the side, met Bucky’s gaze breathlessly, looking satisfied, and vaguely alarmed. “I’m going to hell…” Steve panted softly, his blue eyes meeting Bucky’s searchingly.

Bucky managed a sympathetic little laugh, still trying to catch his breath. “I’ve got a theory about that…”

"Yeah?" Steve asked looking a little uncertain, like he was begining to think that this had been a huge mistake.

Bucky rolled over on top of his again, seeing the look of nervousness and fear creeping into the boy’s gaze. He leaned down, kissing him softly until he felt his body relax beneath him again. “Yeah,” he murmured, breaking the kiss, his wet lips still brushing against Steve’s “I call it, ‘God doesn’t actually give a crap about who you have sex with so long as you have consent’”

Steve actually giggled softly, tipping his chin down as Bucky continued to press feather light kisses to his cheeks and eyelids, brow and nose. “I’ve kind of wondered that myself…” He breath, Bucky’s hand slipping under his chin to lift his mouth to his once more.

"It’s a good theory…" Bucky murmured, falling silent as he enjoyed the feeling of pressing soft kisses to Steve’s mouth, feeling the gentle curve of Steve’s warm body pressing against his own. They lay there for some time, wordless, silent, kissing softly, and reverently running their hands over the other’s body.

Steve startled, yanking back in alarm as he heard the doorknob to the supply closet rattle. He clapped a hand over his mouth, the two boy’s freezing in guilty silence. They heard the dull scrap of the light socket cover being pulled off, the slid of fingers against un-sanded drywall as they groped for the key. Steve’s eyes, wide as saucers, slid over to where his neat Sunday slacks lay, crumpled on the ground, the key still tucked in the pocket. Bucky followed his gaze, stifling a snicker as the person outside jiggled the handle once more.

Their persistence lasted only a few minutes, before they gave up on the locked door with it’s missing key and heading back off down the hallways. As the footsteps receded, Bucky gave a tense little chuckle, which suddenly uncoiled into a fit if hysterical laughter.

" _Shut up_!" Steve cried, but he was grinning, laughter bubbling in his chest regardless of everything he tried to stuff it out. "Shut up, I’m serious!" Steve laughed, trying to shove Bucky’s warm, shaking body off of him.

Bucky ducked his head, his forehead resting against Steve’s collarbone as he tried to stifle his laughter. He gripped his ribs, gasping. “Y-you should have seen your face Steve! Y’looked like a deer in headlights.”

"Yeah! Cause what if it’d opened, huh? What if I’d left the key out there?" He demanded, still grinning from ear to ear. "Some nice little old lady would have waltzed right in here and seen the pastors son, stark naked, making out with another guy! My life would be _officially_ over!"

"But it’s not," Bucky reminded him, pressing a teasing little kiss to his lips.

"You’re right, Steve admitted, "but we should go either way. They’re looking for something in this closet and my dad has spare keys to all the doors."

Bucky wrinkled his nose in annoyance. “He would.” He mumbled under his breath, reluctantly lifting himself off of Steve’s sender frame. “Here,” he said, digging around in his bag and pulling out a package of tissues, yanking out a few for himself before tossing it to Steve. “Clean yourself up choir boy, and fix your sex hair.”

Steve glanced down, flushing slightly as he combed his fingers through his sweaty hair. He had considered addressing Bucky on calling him ‘choir boy’ again, but he decided against it. There was something kind of hot about the way the teasing words formed on his obscene red lips. “Choir boy…” He whispered under his breath, doing his best to clean himself up. 

Bucky turned raising an eyebrow. “Oh, sorry. Preacher’s kid.”

Steve wrinkled his nose in disgust, throwing the crumpled, slimy tissue at him. “Hey, you wanna shut up?” He asked, pulling himself to his feet and grabbing his boxers up off the floor. 

Bucky tried his best to hide his smirk, pulling on his boxer’s and sliding his slacks on overtop, fixing the belt buckle. “Okay, okay, keep your pants on churchie.” He grinned, startling a bit as he felt Steve’s hands sneak around his waist.

"You really want that?" He breathed in his ear, Bucky feeling heat coil in his stomach at the sensation of Steve’s warm, wet lips touching his lobe.

"No," He admitted, feeling a flutter in his chest. "I like ‘em better when they’re on the floor…"

Steve smirked, pressing a quick kiss behind his ear before pulling back and setting to buttoning his shit back up, his neat, black slacks still discarded in the corner. “That’s what I thought.” He said with a grin, his blue eyes glinting with suppressed mischief. Certainly not as straight-laced (Or even as straight) as his family and congregation seemed to think. As Steve fixed the top button of his shirt and stooped to pick up his now wrinkled slacks, his expression fell slightly. 

"So…I guess you’ll be moving on huh?" He asked quietly, a sense of loss hanging heavily in his words. He sounded disappointed, yet resigned; like he had kind of figured that this would happen all along. "I’m sure there are plenty of other choir boys and pastor’s sons for you to be corrupting…"

Bucky glanced back, smoothing his hands absently down the front of his shirt, playing nervously with his belt buckle. Steve looked…sad…not angry, or bitter…just…sad…Bucky’s tongue slid slowly out of his mouth, moistening his lips as he reached out, catching the slender boy’s wrist. Steve blinked turned back to him with a look of reserved curiosity, a guarded hope glimmering dimly in his eyes. Bucky just stood for a moment, staring at the face that had looked up at him was such a look of eager anticipation, with such open trust, and longing.

Steve was scared of admitting his attraction to other guys, so he’d been starved, deprived of the touch he yearned for so much. He wanted so much to be held, and touched, and kissed, but he wanted to be loved too. Bucky’s heart broke for him. He couldn’t imagine how he must feel, especially with a family so rooted in the church. _Maybe_ he would still be accepted, but it was also just as likely that he would be shunned, and 50/50 wasn’t the kind of odds Steve liked to bet his life on. 

Bucky parted his lips slowly, reaching out to gently cup the back of his neck, drawing him in closer. “I’m…thinking I kind’a like this place…” He said, actually feeling himself beginning to blush. That was certainly a new phenomenon.

Steve frowned, his gaze becoming guarded. “You mean…you’re done ‘ _church hopping’?”_

Bucky managed a shaky little laugh, of course knowing what Steve was insinuating. “Uh, yeah. I figure…maybe I’ll be back next Sunday with my mum…maybe you and I can go somewhere afterwards…”

Steve smirked faintly, dropping his gaze away from Bucky’s. “Thanks…” He murmured, “But I don’t know that I could do something like this all the time…I’m just getting used to knowing it did it _once_.”

The brunet blinked suddenly, moving his hand to cup Steve’s angular face. “No,” He started, “No, no, no. I- I mean like a _date_.”

Steve’s head came up, meeting Bucky’s gaze searchingly. “A _date_ …” He repeated, the words forming pleasantly on his tongue.

Bucky nodded earnestly. “Yeah, a proper date, with coffee, and a movie, and kissing in the back of the theater, and everything.” He paused a moment, seeing doubt still haunting Steve’s expression. “I want to get to know you.” He pressed on, “I know I didn’t handle today really well, and you probably don’t believe me, but I do. I wanna…well _fuck_ , I just wanna kiss you _all the time_ , and hold your _freakin_ hand, and dumb crap like that.”

Steve giggled, ducking his head as his cheeks flushed a dull pink. “Like, a full-blown boyfriend thing?” He asked, trying to stifle his chuckles. 

Bucky managed a lopsided smirk. “Sure, if you like.”

The blond haired boy held his gaze for a moment, before turning away, rummaging on one of the shelves until he came up with a pen. He reached out, slender, boney finger’s curling around Bucky’s wrist as he pushed up the cuff of his sleeve. The pen tickled as Steve scrawled his phone-number on Bucky’s wrist in smooth black ink. “Here,” He said, capping the pen again and tossing it aside. “Call me. We’ll talk about the boyfriend thing.”

Bucky found himself grinning, looking down at the number as Steve opened the closet door, stashing the key right back where he’d found it. “Come on,” The slender young man hissed, waving for Bucky to follow him as he ghosted down the hall. Bucky forced back his smirk, despite the warmth that was bubbling inside of him, hurrying after Steve, and catching his hand as they slipped off down the dark hallway. 

 


	2. Epilogue

Steve had to admit, he was more than a little dubious when Bucky pressed a discreet kiss to his cheek and promised to be back next Sunday. Bucky had already proven himself to be a good liar and, although Steve wanted to believe him, he allowed himself a certain amount of caution. He didn’t want to let himself get hurt for trusting someone with a history of deceit. But, come Sunday, true to his word, Bucky was sitting in the pews beside his mother. Bucky felt a little funny coming to church more than once or twice a year, but it was well worth it to see Steve’s pretty little face light up with poorly concealed excitement. 

After service was finished, the two boys made excuses to their respective family members and slipped off. Bucky had insisted on driving his own car to church, so that he could take Steve off after the message and not have to worry about how his mom was getting home. As first dates go, neither Steve, or Bucky thought it could have been more perfect. Although the coffee was lukewarm , and the movie was corny, it didn’t seem to matter. The feeling of Steve’s boney hand, warm in his own, and the stolen kisses in the back of the theater made up for it. Although, Steve thought that the best part of the night was when Bucky parked the car in front of his house, and pulled Steve close, kissing him softly in the near-darkness. He grazed his finger’s fervently across his neck and jawline, kissing him tenderly until Steve murmured reluctantly that he had to leave. 

In the early weeks of their relationship, Bucky wouldn’t touch the subject of sex with a ten-foot pole. He kissed, Steve, and held him, hugging him and holding the other boy’s hand, but he kept everything he did 100% PG rated. He wanted Steve to feel secure in their relationship. He wanted to destroy any doubt that may still linger in his mind that Bucky was only using him for sex. So he limited himself to kisses on the lips and cheeks, to cuddling, fully clothed, under Steve’s thick comforters. He learned to enjoy pressing gentle kisses to his knuckles and wrist, and nuzzling Steve’s face when his nose was cold.

Bucky continued with this, content to wait as long as he had to for Steve to trust his motives completely. When Steve began to get a little fresh with him though, Bucky was more than willing to oblige. The Barnes and Rogers families got well aquatinted with each other, owing to the fact that their boys were such ‘good friends’ now. On their overnights together, Steve got very well acquainted with Bucky’s mattress, owing to the fact that his boyfriend was fucking him into it more times than not. Bucky allowed Steve to direct the pace, and although after a while Steve’s desperate hunger for touch seemed to cool, he still welcomed every chance he got to feel Bucky running his hand over his body. 

Bucky was never fond of slinking around in the shadows, but Steve insisted that it wasn’t time yet. He was still too nervous, still to scared. He told Bucky he wanted to enjoy being loved by his family for a while longer. It was the saddest thing Bucky had ever heard. But, despite this, he heeded Steve’s request, and the two continued to be, in the eyes of their families, best friends.

Dancing around discovery, coding messages, and jumping at shadows every time they dared to risk a kiss was far from ideal, but Bucky was happier than he’d ever been in his entire life. He had thought seducing church-boys was fun, a highlight of his life actually, but being with Steve made him realize that he hadn’t really been happy. He’d been burying his unwanted desire for love; numbing it with sex. But he was happy now. Even slinking around being found out 24/7 he was still so completely in love with that pretty, blonde choir boy that he couldn’t bring himself to care. Steve was his, and for once in his life, Bucky wasn’t going to make a mess of it. He was determined to hang onto him with both hands. He’d walk him through the moral struggles of coming to terms with his sexuality and his faith, he’d be there to take care of Steve no matter what happened when he opened up to his family, to celebrate with him, or hold him as he cried. It didn’t matter what hit them now, Bucky loved Steve more completely than he’d loved anyone before in his life, and he wasn’t going to let anything take him away from him.  


End file.
